


Loving Too Hard And How That's Ok (Even When It's Not)

by screamingincolour



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, M/M, Slow Build, Tronnor, angsty as hell, connors oblivious, troyes oblivious, very small mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingincolour/pseuds/screamingincolour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor doesn't like to look at his past, or the mistakes he made, then he's staring them in the face.<br/>Troye doesn't like to make the same mistake twice, but maybe it was never a mistake in the first place.\</p><p>*ON HIATUS*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! My name is Jayma and this is my second Tronnor fic ever, so please please leave feedback, I really appreciate it. This is probably going to be in the 10-15 chapter spectrum, and I'm hoping to update it every 1-2 weeks.  
> So, after the YOUTH narrative video came out awhile back, I really wanted to write something based off it, and I finally got around to it. I really hope you all enjoy this first little bit, please enjoy!  
> (Title from 'YOUTH' narrative)

_"Youth is the fantasy of finding someone who makes you feel like half a person. It's all about the joy and naivety and being lost. It's about dropping everything, and running away, making mistakes. Loving too hard, and how that's OK, even when it's not."_

_-Troye Sivan_

 

* * *

 

Connor lets his coffee cool off some before he drinks it, he has a habit of burning his tongue. 

_ “My youth is yours, trippin’ on skies sippin’ waterfalls.”  _ He sings along to the song on the radio. Connor’s not sure who the song is by, or what it’s even called, but it’s been being played like crazy and he’s in love with it. He grabs his phone charger and shoves it into his bag before grabbing his coffee and making his way out the door to his car. 

***

Connor checks his phone before entering the building. 8:50 AM, ten minutes to spare. Connor’s a photographer, and a damn good one if you ask him, who has a habit of never being  _ anywhere  _ early. 

“Wow, in before 9. I must say Connor, I am impressed.” Connor rolls his eyes at his manager while he snickers at him. 

“Andrew, I’m never late.” He argues. 

“But never early.” Andrew sighs. Connor shoots him a glare. “Any special occasion?” Connor shakes his head and drops his bag at his desk before continuing to the studio in the back. Where the main part of the downtown L.A. office was almost entire windows in the front, the studio on the back was solid white walls with high ceilings and camera equipment all around. 

“Well I don’t know, a certain manager of mine may have left me a message saying, “ I have the most incredible news, and it must be delivered in person for facial reactions.” Ring a bell?” He asks sarcastically while trying to find the lense he needed for a shoot this morning. 

“Mildly, anyways,” Andrew begins. “I got a call last night from some Emma who wants you to shoot one of her clients, who just happens to be one of pop’s bright new stars.” He finishes grinning. Connor feels the corners of his mouth turn up, working with musicians was his favorite, even more so when they’re well known, provides ‘exposure’ Andrew had once said. 

“Alright then, who is it?” Connor asked excitedly, going to take a sip of his patiently waited for coffee. Andrew leans on the other side of the table. 

“It’s that one who sings that ‘YOUTH’ song, yanno Troye Sivan.” Connor then effectively, burns his tongue, and chokes on his coffee simultaneously. Andrew feigns a look of concern and raises an eyebrow. Connor sets down his coffee and tries to get himself under control. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Andrew rolls his eyes.

 

“You know the one, it was playing yester-” Connor cuts him off, waving his hands around frantically. 

“No, I know the song, I mean,” he takes a breath, “Troye Sivan, you’re sure?”  _ It might not be him _ Connor chants to himself. 

“Yeah positive.”  _ It’s probably him.  _

“With an ‘E’” He asks, voice cracking. Andrew nods slowly.  _ It  _ can’t  _ be him.  _ “Oh god.” 

“You ok man?” Andrew asks him, coming around to the other side of the table at which they’re currently stood. “Lemme guess, got a crush on him? Don’t think you’re capable of being professional?” Connor scoffs and finally composes himself. 

“I am the epitome of professional.” He states, annoyed. “Besides I didn’t even know who the hell he was before you just told me.” He half lied. 

“Uh huh. Well that was quite the reaction, I’d hate for you to get a client you  _ did  _ know, you might have a heart attack.” Andrew snorts, giving him a pointed look, then walking back out to the main office. Once his manager is out of sight, Connor lets out a shaky breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. He picks up the lense he was looking for previously and starts to get ready for his first client of the day, because Connor didn’t lie. He is the epitome of professional, even in the case of Troye Sivan. 

***

Connor can’t bring himself to turn on the radio when he gets in his car at the end of the day. He doesn’t think he could handle himself if the song came on the radio, now that he had a name, and a voice, and a face to go with it. If Connor believes in one thing it’s karma, and he’s surprised with himself that he hadn’t seen this coming, because in all reality, he really should have. 

On his drive back to his apartment, all he can think about is the last time he saw Troye Sivan, or Troye Sivan Mellet, as Connor knew him. Connor was twelve and Troye was eleven, but it might as well have been the other way around, Troye was always so much more confident than Connor, not to mention taller. They had been neighbours, and best friends as well as classmates, Connor would always complain to Troye about how his birthday was completely unfair, and that being one day past the date to enter school was ridiculous. However Troye always made Connor feel better when he’d remind him that they wouldn’t ever be in same class had it been different. Connor was 6 when the Mellets moved in across the street. They had moved to L.A. from Australia due to Laurelle’s modelling career, and he and Troye has clicked instantly. From that first day on, he and Troye were inseparable. Until the day Connor had ruined it all.

 

He was outside, kicking a soccer ball back and forth with Nicola when Troye had come running over. Connor noticed the tears almost right away and let Nicolas pass to him roll right into the street, which never usually happened. He had fast reflexes. He grabbed Troyes wrist and led him into the backyard, and up to the tree house. 

“What happened?” Connor asked, giving Troye a sympathetic look. Troye hardly ever cried, he was one of the most cheerful people Connor knew. Troye just sobbed and Connor pulled him into a hug, he had always been told he gave the best hugs. 

“My parents..” He had managed to choke out. Connor pulled back, startled. The Mellets were basically the closest you could get to a perfect family, he couldn’t fathom them doing anything to make Troye so upset. Troye looked up with Connor with sad eyes. “They want to go back.” He whispered. 

“What?” Connor questioned, not knowing what Troye had meant.

 

 

“Mum got an offer, they want to go back home, back to Australia.” Troye said quietly wiping away tears. Connor just stared at Troye with wide eyes and his jaw wide open. 

“What! No! They can’t…” Connor trailed off, falling back onto his heels from where he was previously kneeling. 

“They can, and they are, Dad’s already called someone.” Troye looked so defeated in that moment, Connor remembers, far too sad for an eleven year old, in that moment Connor thought that was the saddest Troye had ever looked, but that would change before they would leave the tree house. 

“Forget it, no you can’t go. You can live with me, Mom wouldn’t mind, It’d be like a sleepover everyday!” Troye started shaking his head. 

“No I can’t, I’d miss everyone too much Con.” Troye looked up at Connor then, and then said. “But I’ll still miss you. Everyday. More than I’ll miss anything in California, I’m sure of it.” Then Connor heard Troye mumble something barely audible, but Connor heard it, loud and clear.  _ “I’m in love with you.” _

“No.” Was all Connor said, standing up, almost hitting his head on the roof. Troye stood up with him.

“What?” He said, his voice cracking again. 

“You’re not  _ in love  _ with me, Troye. I’m a boy, and I’m not gay.” Troye tried to reach out to Connor, but he jerked back. “No.” Connor said again. And there it was, the look that haunted Connor for the better part of that year.

Connor sighed, pulling into his driveway, and hitting his head onto the steering wheel with a plunk. He could’ve just said it _“I’m in love with you too.”_ but he didn’t, because he was scared, he wasn’t like Troye was, he wasn’t confident enough to come out until he was 20 for god's sake.

 

He can only imagine what Troye is like now, being that incredible when he was 11. He must be absolutely fantastic, he’s doing what he’s always talked about, even when he was little. A singer, and a fucking brilliant one at that. Connor can’t help but wonder what Troye even looks like these days, so he grabs his laptop as soon as he gets in his apartment and googles it. He’d have to be 20 himself now, _dear god have mercy_ , Connor prayed while he waited for the page to load. Connor’s prayers weren’t answered as his bag fell to the floor with a thump as he pulled the computer closer to his face from where it sat on the kitchen table.  

 

“Holy shit…” Connor mumbles, because if he thought he was over his pre-pubescent crush on Troye, _fuck_ he was wrong. At 20, Troye isn’t cute or hot, he’s sex incarnate. But Connor doesn’t stay on that too long when he see’s his childhood best friend on the cover of _Rolling Stone Magazine._ It’s not when Connor see’s how attractive Troye is that he wants to take back what he said more than he ever has in his whole life, it’s the photo of him smiling into a crowd so captivated by him, that Connor feels his heart clench harder than it ever has. Because that smile was once for him, and now the rest of the world gets it, but Connor never will again.

 

 

 

  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter; Troye Sivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Chapter 2! I'm so glad so many of you are enjoying it, and I hope you enjoy this second part, they're will be more notes at the end about the next update, so read that if you're curious! Enjoy my smol beans.  
> Jayma xx

 

_ ‘Life is round. We’re stuck on this wheel of living, and dying. An endless circle. Until someone breaks it. You came in here, you rupture the pattern.  _

**_Bang_ ** _ … The whole world gets  _ **_w i d e r_ ** _.’ _

_ -Kill Your Darlings (2013) _

* * *

 

 

Monday mornings are the worst. Well all mornings are the worst, but Monday is exceptionally horrible, in Troyes’ opinion. However Emma,  _ very lovingly  _ had him in for a photo shoot bright and early, 9:20 AM. Absolutely splendid. 

 

Troyes flight only got in that evening, and it was his first _ real _ time spent in L.A. in ages. Troye had been in and out throughout the years, for some sort of work related event, interviews, photoshoots, something of the sort, but this morning was the only real work he had to do for the entire 2 weeks he was here. 

 

Troyes’ earliest memory is flying a kite on Venice Beach with his brother, Steele and his dad. He grew up a short walk from the beach, and most of his childhood was spent in L.A., but he hasn’t actually ever gotten the chance to come back for any sort of visit since his family had moved back to Perth, where he had lived from ages 2-5. He had been born in South Africa, had the first short stay in Perth, then moved to the other side of the world, to California, when he was 5, then back to Australia at 11. He was more well traveled than the average adult as a pre-teen. 

 

Now here he is, back to hang about for the first time since he was a kid. With two weeks until the tour starts, Troye can’t even comprehend what he’s going to do with his free time, his channel was in desperate need of a new video, but even he knows he’s not likely to film a damn thing. Emma suggested meeting up with old friends, but Troye thinks he’s probably going to avoid going any popular area to do just the opposite, because to be completely honest, he’d just rather not. It was part of his “don’t dwell on it” New Years Resolution. Although part of him still wondered about the people from his childhood sometimes, but his curiosity never got the best of him, luckily. 

 

“C’mon then, let’s go, it’s nearly 9 now.” Emma shouts at him as he almost tumbles down the steps of his downtown AirBnB.

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way, chill out.” Troye mutters, because, as previously stated, he is not a morning person. Emma rolls her eyes and practically throws Troye into the back of the Über, and handing him his coffee. 

 

“It would be nice if we were on time darling, and if you could be slightly more pleasant.” She mussed as she got in as well. Troye sighed and sipped at his coffee. 

 

“So, who’re these people,  _ Common Culture, _ never heard of them.” Troye asked as they started driving to their destination. 

 

“From what I hear” Emma starts, “They’re the premier studio in L.A. at the moment, extremely high demand.” She gives a pointed look at Troye. “I know an editor at  _ Rolling Stone,  _ managed to get the head photographers’ managers’ number, he was absolutely  _ thrilled  _ to hear you were interested.” 

“Wait, they’ve done  _ Rolling Stone _ shoots?” Troye asks with wide eyes and mild curiosity. 

“Like I said, the lead photographer-” Troye cuts her off. 

“Yeah, who are they?” Emma glares at him. 

“I don’t remember the exact name, something like Corey Fraser? Anyways, he’s the one who does all of those big shoots.” Troye nods along and mhms at Emma’s instructions to ‘not be cranky’ and ‘behave like a normal human being’. The car stops in front of a multi-floor building, the first being home to what the silver sign above the door reads in block lettering.  _ Common Culture. _ Troye can see the inside of the office as he climbs out of the car, with the front of the building being almost entirely made of windows. It’s a simplistic workplace, and from what Troye can see, mostly white. Then just before Troye turns to close his door, his eyes catch sight of someone standing up from a desk and looking nervous. When Troye looks back the person is no where to be seen. 

“Alright well let’s not keep them waiting, it’s already 9:15.” Emma says, steering Troye to the front door. Troye mumbles about it still being too early, but he sucks it up, because he actually enjoys photoshoots, and damn it all to hell if it’s at 9 AM. 

Troye opens the door for Emma and follows her into the office. Without the sun glaring off the windows, he can see the photos and covers that line the walls, filled with various people, rando models, celebrities. 

“So who exactly are we supposed to-” Troye starts to say before he’s interrupted by a man looking ridiculously professional. 

“You must be Emma, and you must be Troye! I’m Andrew,and I sort of run things around here.” He greets, shaking each of their hands. They nod respectively. “One moment while I go round up your team for today.” He rushes off, calling out various names and flailing his hands everywhere. Troye takes this time to look around and inspect the photos on the wall. Before long Emma is waving him over to a group of people. The one on the end, Troye notices, looks rather distraught and he can’t help but feel that he’s seen him somewhere before. 

  
“So here,” Andrew starts. “We have Bella our hair stylist, Beth our make up artist, Joel our stylist, and of course, Common Cultures’ creative director, and lead photographer, Connor Franta.”

 

Troyes’ phone slips out of his hand, but before he can catch it, there’s already a hand holding it out to him and two green eyes studying his own. 

“Fast reflexes.” He says simply. Troye attempts to form some sort of coherent sentence but all that seems to be happening is his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, and he still hasn’t taken back his phone. Because there’s Connor Franta, his first crush, and subsequently, his first heartbreak, standing directly across from him, and unfortunately for Troye, the years have been very  _ very  _ kind to Connor. 

“Uh, yeah thanks.” He manages to mumble as he retrieves his phone. Connor nods. 

“Well if you’ll follow me then.” Connor says, leading them to the far end of the office to a sort of sub level which, Troye predicts, house the studios. He feels Emma grab his wrist and pull him back towards her. 

“Are you quite alright?” She whispers. Troye doesn’t trust his voice so he nods again and tries to catch up to everyone else. 

As it turns out, Troye was correct, and the back is home to 3 separate studios, Troye currently invading studio A. The other 4 people in the room seem to be oblivious to the awkwardness that only seems to be growing with every minute. However, while setting up his lighting, Connor is fidgeting, and Troye knows for a fact that Connor’s a nervous fidgeter. It’s funny, Troye thinks, how you can not even think of someone for so long, or try to put them out of your mind as much as possible, yet still remember every little quirk. For instance, Connor has fast reflexes, or he’s a nervous fidgeter, so many of the same little things. 

However so much has changed. Connor’s gotten thinner, taller, and has an air of professionalism that he never had as a child. Troye expects that he’s changed a bit as well, enough to put Connor slightly of his cool demeanor. He also assumes that Connor had been forewarned of Troyes’ impending shoot, considering his state of nervousness when they’d first interacted.  

“Ok love, I’m just gonna need you over here then.” The makeup artist, Beth, says, pointing to a seat in front of a vanity that made you feel like a 50’s movie star. 

“Um yeah, sure.” He says, shaking his thoughts away. 

Because this was just another photoshoot, they didn’t even really have to converse if they didn’t want to. They could just ignore the mass amounts of tension in the room, that no amount of separation seemed to remedy. They could just ignore each other, and their issues. They could just pretend like their meeting each other for the first time, and in a sense they are. They’re both people that the other have never known. 

***

They could pretend they had just met for the first time. Like Connor hadn’t betrayed the trust of his best friend to hide behind his own lies. However Connor learned the hard way that suppressing feelings don’t help you at all. So for now, during this shoot, professional was the way it was going to be. Before Troye leaves, he has to talk to him. 

It doesn’t really matter to Connor whether or not Troye cares, or if he even forgives him, it’s for himself. That might seem selfish, but since Andrew had first said Troyes name friday morning, the scene of 11 year old Troye running from Connor’s backyard in tears, had been replayed in his mind a thousand times, and it  _ hurts.  _ Hurts like a stab to the heart, so he might as well twist the knife and attempt to settle it, clear the air,  _ something. _

“Connor,” Beth taps on his shoulder. “He’s off to get changed, then he’ll be ready for you.” Connor nods because he doesn’t trust his voice to say a thing. He know’s what the shoots for, Troyes’ YOUTH promotional photos. If all went well, one would be picked for the single cover art, which is daunting. 

Connor did his research over the weekend, you see. Troye has a YouTube channel, which according to  _ Wikipedia _ was where he got his start. Connor would be lying if he said he didn’t binge watch most of them. However, the one thing he noticed that made this task daunting was Troye and his creativity. Some of the videos inspired Connor, as he was trying to get a sense of what this new Troye was like, and how he had changed from this little boy into this mega superstar. But in these videos, he could see Troye took immense pride in the little details, which Connor respects and is keen to get right. 

Because Connor couldn’t fail Troye again. He won't let himself give Troye anything less than what he deserved from Connor, after all this time. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that!! So update wise, I am going to Europe until the 20th of March (which is super exciting) so unfortunately I wont be writing a lot in that time period, depending on what I get done in the next couple days, I may update next Tuesday or after I get back, I'm hoping to be able to update next week though. That will be posted on my tumblr in the next few days, so watch that space for update info. If you have any questions or comments, I'll leave all of my social media stuff at the end of this.   
> Please please keep leaving comments and kudos because that makes me super happy! :)
> 
> IG- jaymaporter  
> Twitter-@Jayma_Porter  
> Tumblr- fandom-whore-oops.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I'm back!! Sorry this is wicked late! I was super lazy after my trip, and actually taking the effort to type something out was unimaginable. But here it is!

 

_“Atticus, he was real nice."_

_"Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.”_   
**_― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird_**

* * *

 

  


Multiples of three. The photos of himself displayed across the screen in front of him are in multiples of three. In the third grade, when Troye was 9, they had begun learning multiplication. Troye already wasn’t great at math, and for some reason he couldn’t get his mind around his 3’s tables. Connor, however, was not too bad at math and helped get a B on their times tables quiz. 

 

Connor now stood a good three feet away from him, and hasn’t come closer than needed at all. Some people never change, not that he wanted Connor any closer, but it would’ve been nice to know that Connor had gotten over his distaste of Troye. He only got any closer when he reached over to change between frames of photos. 

 

Troye had tried his hardest to pretend Connor was any other photographer, and that he didn’t want to turn tail and run the minute he saw Connor’s face. You can tell, Troye notices, looking at the photos in front of hi, that he wasn’t completely successful. HIs demeanor was different than usual and it was obvious. 

 

“They’re good.” Connor says suddenly, stopping on a frame of Troye sitting back in a large white chair, in three different poses. “They’re really quite good.” Troye shrugs, because yeah, they are he’ll admit, but there isn’t really too much special about them. 

 

“I guess.” He feels Connors eyes on him. 

 

“Do you not like them?” Connor says with a hint of worry. “Because there's something there.” He reaches over to click back to another frame. A photo of Troye, one of the first they took, standing sideways, with one arm across his chest grabbing the other. The first photo he’s looking down, but in the second his head tilts to the side, then the last one it shifts to the camera. He’s not looking at it though, his eyes are trained behind the camera, and Troye must say, it’s dreamy. Not in the attractive sense, but in the actual dream-like sense. It’s what he was going for, and he loves it. He hears Emmas ‘oh’ behind him, and practically feels her smile. 

 

“See, there it is.” Connor explains. “It’s like a different feel than your other photos I looked at b-” Troye cuts Connor off. 

 

“You’ve looked at my other photos?” Connor freezes, then makes up what Troye knows is a lame excuse. He would’ve been almost flattered had it been anyone else...

 

“I like to know what and who I’m working with.” He says defensively. Troye scoffs. 

 

“I think you know very well who you are working with.” Troye musses. Emma hits him on the arm, he looks back at her and she is clearly giving him her ‘what the fuck’ face. Troye turns back at Connors reply. 

  
“Yeah, I guess I do.” His hand falls from the laptop and he looks utterly defeated. “I um…” He starts. “I uh, I’m gonna go talk to our editing team, I’ll be back.”  Troye sighs as Connor walks off  and he most definitely does not watch as he goes. He turns to Emma and before he can say anything she does. 

“What the actual  _ hell _ was that! You’ve been off all day, but that! That was just plain rude and unacceptable Troye, honestly, as your friend here-” 

“Emma stop.” Troye says, cutting her off. She closes her mouth and crosses her arms in front of her, staring him down. 

“ _ Well?” _ She demands. Troye sighs again. 

“Connor Franta is a homophobic jerk.” He states plainly. Emma laughs,  _ actually laughs.  _ Troye stares at her open mouthed. 

“Connor,” she giggles, “is not homophobic. Where  _ ever _ did you get such an idea?” Emma is still cackling when Troye answers her. 

“Well he certainly was when I was eleven and I told him I was in love with him.” Emma stops laughing. 

“What?” She asks incredulously.  

“So we can have them edited and ready for Thursday.” Connor says, returning from his talk with the editors. Troye nods slightly.

“Great, thanks.” Emma says smiling. Connor nods. 

“You can come in Thursday to help out with some last minute edits, and tweak some things at say, 3?” Emma is shaking Connors hand and thanking him and making plans for Thursday when Troye turns around. He looks around the room, anywhere but at Connor. He looks around the room, it’s bright white, except for the last background used, a deep purple. The atmosphere itself is quite bright, people always busy, running in and out, but happy to be there. The constant buzz. 

Emma breezes past him and walks to where Andrew has just entered the room. Troye makes a move to follow her. 

“Um Troye?” Connor calls from behind him. He almost doesn’t turn around,  _ almost.  _ But he does. He even takes a couple steps towards Connor, because believe it or not, Troye isn’t a complete ass. 

“Yeah, uh hi?”  _ God I sound like an idiot. _ Troye thinks to himself.

“I’m happy for you.” What? His face must give him away because Connor explains himself. “You’re singing, an album, mass internet success? It’s what you’ve always wanted, yeah?” Troye feels his stomach flip around a few times, and he shouldn’t care but he does. Connor remembers Troye, like properly. 

“Oh, uh yeah. Thanks. Listen I-” Troye is cut off, seems to be a lot of that today. 

“Just know that I’m sorry, please.” It’s like a weight was taken from Connor just then, Troye can see his visibly relaxes. 

“I’m over it.”  _ Lies.  _ “I don’t really care.”  _ More lies.  _ “Moved on.” His stomach does another flip and he feels like he’s going to be sick. Connor nods. 

“Ah yeah, I kinda figured. Just wanted to get the elephant out of the room I guess.” Troye sighs an bobs his head absentmindedly. 

“Yup well, glad that’s settled then, I should get going.” He says, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Emma.

“Probably, how long are you here for?”  _ Oh my god. _ Can this just be over so Troye can go vomit in the bathroom. He holds two fingers up. 

“Two weeks.” He states. Connor has a hint of a grin. 

“Well, I told Mom I was doing a shoot with you, and she begged me to invite you over. I know that would be ridiculously awkward but…?” Connor lets himself trail off. This was more talking than they’d done all day. 

Dinner at Connors house. With the potential of his entire family being there. Back in the day, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second, but now things are different. But he can imagine Cheryl is still as insistent as ever, and she never did a thing to him but shower him in homemade cookies. 

“Yeah actually, that sounds good. When?” Connor full out grins now. 

“Friday? Say at six?” Connor sways back and forth awaiting Troyes answer. Troye nods his head, not meeting Connors gaze.

“Sure, can do. Let Cheryl know.” Connor nods. And Troye repeats his earlier gesture of throwing his thumb over his shoulder and Connor puts his hand out as a gesture that he’s free to go. Troye turns with a small wave and heads back towards Emma with his eyes focused on the door. 

***

 

Ok so that was a small lie. Connor hadn’t informed his mother that he was doing a shoot with Troye, due to the fact that it could’ve gone much  _ much  _ worse. However it had gone alright, even with the extreme tension at the beginning. Troye has also seemed keen on professionalism and it was quickly surpassed. 

Connors small fib regarding his mother was to get Troye to come, using Cheryl as a slight pawn in his plans. Connor knows though, that had he told his mother, she  _ would _ be insisting he come for dinner, and he can’t imagine how excited she’ll be to hear it. 

His slip up earlier though, when he admitted to looking at Troyes other shoots, told him something. Troye hasn’t forgotten it, and he is still somewhat bitter about it, even if he says otherwise. The slight hostility was obvious. And Connor can’t even be mad about it, because he can’t blame him. 

He watches him practically  _ run  _ to his manager, and wonder if Troye will change his mind before Friday. Probably. He watches Andrew shake Emmas hand, and watches Troye bite on the sleeve on his jacket and, open the door for Emma and, then they leave the room as Andrew leads them out of the building. Then once they’re completely out of site, Connor sits down on the floor and lets out a very long breath. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Feedback is very welcome! :)
> 
> Find me (in a non creepy way)  
> Tumblr- fandom-whore-oops.tumblr.com  
> Instagram- JAYMAPORTER  
> Twitter- @Jayma_Porter


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troye understands fear, and Connor calls his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was Wednesday, it is Thursday. So subsequently, this is late.

_When we were young we used to say, that you only hear the music when your heart begins to break._

_Now_ _we are the kids from yesterday._

**_-The Kids From Yesterday_ **

**_My Chemical Romance_ **

* * *

 

Andrew came back into the studio not long after left, and raised his eyebrow at Connor’s position on the floor. He made his way over to Connor with a hand outstretched , Connor shook his head at Andrews gesture. 

****

“No.” He says, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m never getting up, for my life is over.” Andrew tilts his head to the side.

****

“Did the shoot not go well? It looked great to me.” Connor sighs.

****

“Yes, unfortunately. It went fantastic, the photos are incredible, and I could take photos of him for the rest of my natural life.”

****

“Right.” Andrew turns on his heel to go, but Connors stops him.

****

“Ugh. Help me up, I’ve got to call my mother.” Andrew laughs.

****

***

****

Amazingly, Troye doesn’t find himself vomiting on the sidewalk once he's outside. (Thankfully, he doesn’t need a scandal.) He manages to stumble inside his car, and Emma joins him in the back seat this time. She slams the partition shut and looks at Troye expectantly. 

****

“Please, explain yourself. I’m all ears.” Troye shakes his head. 

****

“When I lived in Venice, Connor was my very best friends.” Emma’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “I wasn’t out yet, but Connor was my first crush, like properly. About a month before we moved to Perth, I told him.” Troye sighs, because he has absolutely zero desire to discuss the topic. 

****

“OK, so where does the whole ‘homophobic jerk’ bit play in?”She asks, holding Troyes arm. 

****

“It’s really quite irrelevant.” Emma squeezes his arm. “He didn’t like that idea, I was heartbroken. I thought he might’ve loved me too. Which is ridiculous, I was 11, he was 12.” Emma giggles a little at that. 

****

“You’re never too young to know what love is, Troye.” 

****

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m over it.” Emma looks at him skeptically. 

****

“You sure about that?” Troye turns his head to look at Emma with an incredulous look on his face.

  
“Why would you say that? Of course!” Emma moves her hand down to Troye’s own and pats his arm with the other.

 

“You’re telling me, that he  _ hasn’t _ gotten better looking in recent years?” The car stops as Troye rolls his eyes and steps out of the car, Emma trailing behind. 

“Of course he has Emma, but the point? He’s straight.” Emma drags Troye inside the AirBnB 

“Troye, you’re utterly ridiculous.” She pulls him to the living room, and stops where her laptop sits on the glass coffee table. “There, now sit.” She demands, pulling a pillow off the sofa and onto the floor. 

“Emma, what are you doing?” He asks, hopeful for an answer, and starting to stand up. Emma grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down. 

“Sit.” She says glaring at him. She plops herself down next to him, and is confused when Emma starts to google something. 

_ Connor Franta, OUT. _

He looks at her with a questioning expression. She doesn’t say anything, not that he expected her to. She seems to be dead set on trying to prove whatever it is she’s trying to prove. 

“Now,” Emma says, clicking on the first link in the results. “Our friend Connor, not too long ago did a little interview with none other than  _ OUT _ magazine.” Troye isn’t really aware as to where she is heading with this one. 

She clears her throat and starts reading the headline that Troye is staring wide-eyed at. 

“ _ Photographer Connor Franta talks his success, his inspiration and, his long road to coming out and finding happiness.”  _ Troye can hardly believe his eyes. 

Had he been wrong the whole time? Had it been nothing but fear? Because Troye can relate to fear, he actually is rather familiar with the sentiment. He felt it when he came out to his family, when he came out to the world. He feels it everytime he walks on stage, or when he does an interview. Troye understands fear. 

“Where did you find this?” He breathes. Emma sighs. 

“You honestly think I didn’t find out everything I could about the guy before I booked the shoot? Some may call it stalking, I call it careful observation.” Troye stands up, taking the laptop with him. 

“I need to read this.” He explains, walking towards his room. Emma laughs a little, and mutter an ‘oh of course.’ As Troye walks down the hallway he hears her call after him.

“So what are you going to do about it?!” 

“Very good question Emma, very good question.” He musses, and slams the door shut. 

***

The first thing Connor does when he gets home is call his mother. He picks up the phone and dials his mother's number.She picks up after 2 days which is impressive because she always loses her phone and never answers until the last possible minute. 

“Connor! We haven’t spoken in ages.” She musses as soon as she answers. 

“Hi Mom,” He trills. “You do know it’s only been 2 days?” She sighs. 

“That’s a lifetime for a mother.” He can picture her putting her hand on her hip, and rolling her eyes, it makes him smile. 

“Of course it is.” He starts, he’d been trying to work out what to say for most of the day. “So the reason I called is because I was wondering, if you’d like to have dinner.” He pauses. “With me, and a friend.” There is a small beat of silence, then his mother is antagonizing him. 

“Oh, a friend? What kind of friend? A boyfriend, perhaps?” Connor rolls his eyes. (He gets it from her) and drags a hand across his face. 

“God Mom, no, nothing like that. Do you remember Troye?” He really hope she does, otherwise his plan is foiled. 

“Mellet? Yes of course!” She exclaims, excitedly. So she does then. Perfect. 

“That is the one, he’s in town. I invited him for dinner, 6 O’clock, your house, this Friday.” Then she starts to panic. 

“Friday!” She screeches down the line. “Oh my goodness, you at least could have asked. Ok yes, yes, I can make it work. I’m sure.” She rambles on like that for awhile, wondering which silverware she plans on using, and if Dad will be home from work by then. 

Connor didn’t have really any doubts about his mother having Troye for dinner, but he did wonder if she was going to mention anything about how they,  _ lost touch _ . As Connor had put it so many years ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments and I will love you forever!
> 
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**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and I love to read comments and feedback!
> 
> Twitter- @Jayma_Porter  
> IG- JAYMAPORTER  
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